


Mischief Moon

by rolystatz



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-02 21:01:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12734241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolystatz/pseuds/rolystatz
Summary: Diays (pronounced Dee-ice) is an Asgardian servant, working in the palace. She takes on a different form at night that she has no control over, which causes trouble all around town. Loki notices her mischievous ways and decides to take her under his wing. Hope you enjoy :)





	1. The Future King

Growing up, I’ve only ever known one place. I am an Asgardian maiden, working in the palace. Never have I stepped foot off the edge of King Odin’s grounds. My mother remains here with me, we share the same chamber, though, we’re rarely there to crowd it. She waits on the Queen. Mother is a very skilled servant and knows her mistress more than she knows herself. I used to only work as a runner, delivering items to whomever, whenever, anywhere in the castle, but now that I’ve blossomed into a fine-looking young woman, I have been reassigned to be Prince Loki’s personal maid. Now I only run errands for him.  
Being the only female on his crew, I like to believe he or Odin chose me because of- the way I am. I’ve seen on numerous occasions the prince demonstrating his magical abilities. Ever since I was young, I would secretly watch him practice, over and over again, perfecting his illusions and shapeshifting, trying to understand his powers. How could I come to control mine as he had his? It just wasn’t possible. Every night, I would still turn into ~her. And she has a mind of her own, every damn time. Prowler would take to the corridors and drag me outside romping around the kingdom and wreaking havoc. Mostly I ever enjoyed it because I knew the prince would respect “my” mischievous behavior. More often than not, though, she would send me neck-deep into unwanted trouble that I’d have to fight my way out of. Who knows how many lives were ruined because of her? Of us?  
Well, I’m not going to think about that now, it’s the morning, I still have plenty of hours before the sun goes down.  
Carrying a breakfast tray from the kitchen, I ascend the grand staircase slowly, eyeing each item meticulously to ensure nothing moves. Clothed feet make no noise on the marble stairs and soon I’m passing Prince Thor’s chambers, as well as his study, approaching Loki’s door. Right next to his door is a small, low table. I place the gold platter on it to free up my hands, and knock lightly on the hard wood in front of me. There’s no answer, so I just turn the knob, keep the door open with my bum and take the tray inside.  
“Prince Loki?” I call out into his vast and dark chambers.  
He still has his curtains drawn. I wonder if perhaps he hasn’t awakened yet, for there isn’t an immediate answer. As silently as possible, I walk up to his bed and set his breakfast on the bedside table. Try as I might to escape soundlessly, I end up bumping straight into a large chair that slides noisily on the floor. I hear Loki gasp and shift in his bed, assumingly bolting upright.  
“Who’s there? It’s so ~damn dark,” Loki growls.  
“I’m sorry, My Lord, it’s Diays, I’ve just delivered your breakfast,” I respond breathlessly into the darkness.  
“Well, then, you should have woken me up with your cheery voice, not that bloody chair.”  
“I apologize, Your Grace, it was an accident,” I say, palms beginning to sweat.  
He sighs, “It’s quite alright. Would you mind opening up those curtains?”  
“Not at all, My Lord.”  
I rush over to them and yank the left side of the ropes down. The dark red curtains swing open and sunlight pours in. The prince shields his morning eyes, and scrunches his face as they grow accustomed to the change in lighting.  
“Thank you for bringing my breakfast. Would you lay out some clothes for me, as well? I’m afraid I’m feeling rather lazy this morning,” Loki says as he falls back onto his pillow.  
“Of course, Your Excellency. The usual, then?  
“Mm,” Loki mutters as he moves the tray beside him onto his gigantic bed.  
My eyes become caught watching him for a moment. I longed desperately to dine along with him, feeding him those succulently juicy fruits. Snapping myself out of it, I make way for his closet, which is a maze in and of itself. Knowing it like the back of my hand nowadays, I expertly obtain fresh layers from the many shelves offered. On the farthest corner away from Loki on his bed as possible, I lay them all down in backwards order of how they’ll appear on him, trying my hardest not to blush as I smooth down the last piece- his undergarments. How does this god expect me not to develop feelings for him? As I walk in front of his bed, I glance at him as he eats. My goodness, he could slice me with that jawline of his, I muse in my head.  
“Anything else, My Lord?” I ask before daring to leave.  
“Yes. Wake up my brother, and bring him to me. We have a big week ahead of us.”  
I suppress a grin and reply, “Yes, right away,” as I curtsy, then shuffle quickly out of the room.  
Diays, did you hear that? I ask myself. He didn’t ask for me to “Wake up Thor and tell him to see me,” he said to bring him back. That means I’ll be able to be in the room when the two brother discuss the upcoming ceremony and coronation. Barely able to contain my excitement, I find myself more than jogging to Thor’s chambers.  
“Pardon the intrusion, My Lord,” I say, for he is already awake and eating. “But, Prince Loki would like to speak with you.”  
“Very well. You may tell him I’ll be there in a moment.”  
“I’m sorry, Your Grace, those were not my original orders,” I persist.  
Thor chuckles, “Oh? Then what were you orders, girl?”  
I resist the urge to roll my eyes.  
“To bring you in,” I state.  
“Ah! Well, I suppose this meal can wait.”  
I look away when he stands, for he’s still in his very revealing sleep clothes.  
“Well, come on, then,” he motions for me to lead him.  
“Right,” I say, and we exit, only to enter Loki’s room seconds later.  
As soon as I open the door, I either wish I would’ve never entered, or that I were a whore instead of a respectable employee. Loki is in the middle of dressing. He’s just buttoning up his black, leather trousers, and his magnificently pale chest nearly shines in the light from the window. He grabs his shirt and throws it on as Thor and I approach.  
“Brother. Good morning,” Loki says solemnly.  
“Yes, it is! A glorious one!” Thor responds loudly, oblivious to Loki’s morose demeanor.  
I slip off to the side, still in sight, though I know they’ll forget about me in a moment.  
“A week from today is the coronation,” Loki begins.  
“So that means today we find out who will be king, I know,” Thor walks forward, closer to his brother. “I know.”  
“Look, Thor- I know it will be you.”  
“Come on, brother,” Thor starts to protest.  
“No, there’s nothing to say. You know I’m right, it’s always been you, you’re the oldest,”  
Loki says softly.  
“Loki, there’s always the possibility of father surprising you-” Thor tries, but is cut off, again.  
“No, there isn’t. I cannot be fooled, there’s no way I accept that as a possibility. It’s fine, though, Thor. I’ve known all my life that this whole week is about you- And only you,” Loki then stops and looks away.  
My heart beats wildly, I can hear and feel it in my head.  
“That is not true, brother. It is to celebrate both of us. The Sons of Odin. Brothers. You and I, forever.”  
Loki twitches his mouth into a smile for a millisecond, and disappears it just as swiftly. “Yes, that I know. I’m not sure how fond of it I am, though.”  
“Oh, shut it,” Thor laughs and shoves him lightly.  
Loki half smiles, again.  
“You mustn’t believe father would cast the idea of you on the throne down so easily. I bet he’s ached over all these years on whom to choose.”  
“Oh, I’m sure you’re correct,” Loki says lightly, but I can hear the words are dripping with sarcasm.  
“The ceremony is when?” Thor asks.  
Loki shrugs and gives him a helpless look.  
“It begins in three hours, Your Grace,” I respond loudly.  
They both sigh.  
“Well, then. I suppose we should start getting ready,” Thor says.  
“How annoying,” Loki grumbles, “I just finished dressing. Is it really necessary to dress in our armor?”  
“Of course, it is, my brother, ‘tis tradition!” Thor yells as he leaves.  
“Ah, yes,” Loki exhales and turns his head to look outside, “Tradition.”  
The door shuts with a bang.  
“Prince Loki?” I say rather timidly.  
“Hm,” he hums, staring out his window.  
“I am sorry.”  
He doesn’t need to ask what about. I’m almost certain he knows how I truly feel about him, so he knows I speak of his impending fate. Loki plops down onto his bed, still gazing outside.  
“I’ve always known- That today would be his day,” he says, though so quietly I have to walk closer in order to hear him. “But now that it’s here, I couldn’t possibly feel worse.”  
“My Prince-”  
“Yes,” he continues with a hollow laugh. “That’s all I’ll ever be.”  
Immediately, my heart feels as though it was frozen solid by a Frost Giant.  
“But, My Lord- If it’s any consolation, I wish you were the one who would be my king, who would be The Allfather’s heir. I wish to always serve you, Your Highness.”  
“That is good to hear, my dear, thank you,” Loki smiles weakly at me.  
“You’re welcome, Prince Loki,” I say, returning his with a warmer smile of my own.  
As I watch him, he transforms his clothes into his armor, and his gold horns, though he’s still seated, transcend me. Though it is not necessary for me at this time to do so, I feel compelled to kneel. Dropping to my knees in front of him, I also bow down my head to show modesty.  
He chuckles. “Diays, you are too good to me,” his velvety voice oozes out.  
“There’s just no other way, Your Grace,” I nearly whisper.  
“Please, darling. Stand,” he says.  
I do as I’m told, and lift my eyes to look at him. In his armor he appears to be so menacing. I do not believe the prince would ever physically hurt me, so I do not find him threatening.  
Who knows, though, really? One can never tell.  
Because-  
I do know something that Prince Loki, Brother of Thor, Son of Odin, does not know.  
Thor is not his blood brother.  
I had been delivering a message from the kitchen, of all places, and just as I arrived-  
There’s no possible way that I could feel any worse or uneasy about this, but- I eavesdropped. Never in my career have I listened to anything I wasn’t supposed or allowed to hear, except for this one incident. Why it was me to learn this knowledge, I have no idea. I overheard the Allfather and his wife, five years ago, discussing this day.  
The Allfather said, “It depends on the timing! If things remain the way they are with the Frost Giants, Thor will be on the throne.”  
“Odin,” Frigga begun, “Please reconsider-”  
“No!” he shouted, then quieted his voice, “It was decided long ago that only if our truce with Jotenheim was in jeopardy, Loki would ascend the throne, and his true identity would be revealed.”  
I’d covered my mouth with both hands to hold in a gasp.  
“Do you think Laufey would actually believe Loki is his son?”  
The Allfather yelled.  
There was silence.  
I was in tears.  
Suddenly the message I’d been sent to relay didn’t seem to be so important. Tears flowed down my face as I backed away. Soon I was running down the corridor, as silently as possible, and I reached a washroom just in time to compose myself before anyone saw me. After taking a few deep breaths and fanning my face, I went back to their chambers to deliver the message.  
It had been that dinner was ready.  
I think of that day now, as I gaze at Loki’s regal figure, suppressing tears for the life of me. Smiling at him to distract myself, I wonder briefly what will happen on the day Loki finds out the truth.  
I can’t think of it.  
And, I won’t.  
“I know this day has never been thought of highly by you- But, what else is there to say but you’ll get through it. And by the end, you’ll still be rich,” I say as playfully as I dare.  
“I appreciate the effort, Diays,” Loki says sadly. “Now, go do something useful for me, I wish to be alone for awhile.”  
“Yes, Highness,” I give a small bow and leave him with his thoughts.  
Exiting his chambers, I become overwhelmed with grief for my master. Thick tears begin to roll down my cheeks, dripping consistently off my chin. How come it has to be Thor? He has the worst patience I’ve ever seen in a royal, he’s plainly too arrogant for the task. Loki is much more level headed than hot headed. Unable to control myself, I let out a loud growl as I trudge down the corridor, making my way to the laundry room. Walking through these halls, numerous people see me. Luckily no one asks what’s the matter, I wouldn’t know what to say.  
This secret I’ve had to live with is ripping me apart.  
After going down numerous flights of staircases throughout the palace, and before entering the laundry room, I dry my eyes and prepare a lie for my reddened face. Right as Malinar, one of Odin’s most trusted maids, sees me, she drops the clothes she’s washing into the tub and rushes up to me.  
“Diays! What is it, dear, what’s happened? Are you alright?” she asks sweetly.  
I smile to reassure her, “Oh, yes, Malinar, you know me- I spent the morning with Loki, as always, and I just can’t control myself.”  
She looks at me knowingly, “Indeed. Just as long as he doesn't see you behaving this way.”  
“Oh, no, ma’am, never,” I wave my hand.  
“Good. And, speaking of Loki, some of his garments are in the rinsing tub, if you’d be able to hang them outside that would be marvelous.”  
“I am willing and able,” I say cheerily, banishing the knowledge of Loki’s true parentage from my mind for the millionth time.  
Loading up a wicker basket full of his sopping wet clothes, other maids and ladies bustle around and passed me. One of them is my dear friend, Frida, Thor’s servant girl. We’ve been best friends all our lives. She’s probably the person I trust most, besides Mother.  
“Hello, Diays,” Frida says. “Goin’ outside, are ya?”  
I nod, “Would you care to accompany me?”  
“Yes,” she smiles and holds up the basket in her hands.  
The contents are similar to those in mine.  
“Wonderful, I need to talk to you,” I say.  
“Oh?” Frida looks at me, furrowing her forehead, “What about?”  
We make our way through the wash room and soon we’re exiting the door together to the bright outside.  
I glance around. With no one near us, I turn to my beautiful and buxom best friend.  
“It’s the coronation,” I finally say.  
“What? What about it?”  
“I wish the Allfather’s heir were Loki,” I whisper.  
“Diays!” Frida gasps. “But Thor is fit to be king!”  
Uninterested, I shrug. “Not as well as Loki. I don’t know, something tells me that- These carefree times will be coming to an end soon.”  
“What? Diays, that’s messed up. What are you talking about?” Frida squeals.  
“My gut is saying that a change is coming.”  
“No, what you’re talking about is treason,” Frida says, and starts hanging up Thor’s  
clothes.  
` Sighing, I slowly begin clipping Loki’s clothes onto the line beside her. “It’s not that. It’s just- I can’t shake this feeling that something terrible is going to happen.”  
Frida stops to look at me, “Diays, I don’t mean to dismiss you so urgently, but come on! The celebration begins today, can’t you put it out of your mind? Once our shift is over in a couple hours, we’re off until the day after Thor’s coronation. Just enjoy it!” she insists.  
“Yeah,” I say.  
If only I truly could, I wish I could add. I’ve been uneasy every day since I learned that Loki is not an Odinson. It is monumental knowledge that I wish I didn’t have to live with. He suits an Odinson much better than a Laufeyson, if you ask me. I still struggle to believe it. My Prince is a Frost Giant.


	2. Royal Blues

After solitarily enjoying a glass of mead to relax, it’s hard to remember the last time I felt so merry. It’s an hour before the Declaration Celebration, and every servant and maid who works not in the kitchen has been released to enjoy themselves. All my life, I’ve worn the same garments, a plain, green, floor-length dress with cropped sleeves. Day in and day out it has been my uniform. On this day, however, my mother pulls out a royal blue, long skirted and sleeved gown from a chest in the closet.  
“Oh, Mother!” I gasp and grasp it as she holds it out for me to see. “This is marvelous!”  
“I’m sure it no longer fits me. I’ll wear my usual garb, you put this on,” Mother says with a smile.  
Looking at her, she appears younger today than most days. Her eyes are softer and her white and black hair seems shinier. I’m overcome with gratitude and love for my sweet mother. Although I haven’t regarded myself as homely, necessarily, I’ve never really felt gorgeous, either. I believe this day may change that.  
“Are you sure? I can wear this? Oh, my, where did you get it?”  
“Oh, it was made here in the palace. I wore it on my wedding day to your father,” she gazes sadly at it for a moment.  
My heart slams down as I remember my father, a brave warrior of Asgard. That is, until the day he abandoned his post and his family.  
“Well, go on, off to the baths with you,” Mother says with forced cheeriness. “I don’t want your overworked body touching my dress.”  
I laugh, “Alright, Mother, I”ll be back soon.”  
“Meet me in the Grand Hall, my dear.”  
“Okay, Mum,” I smile and hug her. “Thank you.”  
She sighs in my arm, the dress squeezed between us. “Oh, sweet Diays. You’ll knock ‘em off their feet.”  
Chuckling slightly to myself as Prince Loki comes to mind, we release each other.  
“See you soon,” I say, leaving the room.  
On my way to the servant’s bath, I stop at Frida’s door and knock loudly. She soon opens it, looking frazzled.  
“Yes?” she asks.  
“My poor dear! Are you alright?” I question in response.  
“No! I am NOT! There are no suitable gowns for me to wear! Curse my mother for dying and leaving nothing to me!”  
I roll my eyes once she turns back around in a tizzy. She’s always been a bit of a dramatic.  
“Oh, come now, Frida. Your pink dress is stain and tear-less. It’ll suit the celebration… very fine.”  
Frida looks at me skeptically, “‘Very fine’, you say?”  
My face contorts slightly into an expression of uncertainty before returning it to pretend approval. I nod vigorously, saying, “Oh, yeah.”  
She grumbles. Now I’m not so excited for her to see my dress that is hidden behind my back.  
“Well, regardless, come with me to the baths, no matter what we’ll be wearing, we both need one,” I say teasingly.  
“No- Why? No, don’t tell me. No, why?”  
“Mum leant me her wedding dress.”  
“No! Dammit, I knew I didn’t want to hear it!”  
We both laugh and begin to make our way to the baths, admiring the leant dress together.  
“I’m sorry, Frida, I’d let you wear it if I could.”  
“I appreciate that but you and I both know there’s no way I’d fit into anything your tiny mother could. “  
I smile. “Indeed, that is the truth. How blessed I am to be her size.”  
“Oh, thank you very much,” Frida puts her hand on her heart in fake offense.  
“Hush, you know what I mean,” I say, chortling.  
Entering the steamy room, my friend and I can barely see where we’re stepping, but it’s no matter, all we have to do is follow the maps in our brain and the chatter around us, until we reach the bath’s edge. Stepping out of my green dress, I lay it near a corner in the wall to use as a buffer between the floor and Mother’s gorgeous gown. With a couple of steps downward, I dip into the hot water. I let it wash away all of my apprehensions about Thor, Odin, Frigga- Loki… Everything. After a moment of stillness, I push myself to start moving. Although relaxing seems to be a sweet release, it must for now be abandoned. Soaping myself up head to toe, Frida and I listen to the excited voices of those women in other baths, not engaging in conversations of our own. What is she thinking about all this time, I wonder?  
“Hmm, I wonder what type of food will be up there?” Frida suddenly says.  
Unable to contain it, an uproarious laugh escapes my throat, “Is that what you’ve been thinking of all this time?”  
“As if it had never crossed your mind, you fiend. You’d rather have the usual oatmeal and bread?”  
“False. I, like yourself, cannot wait to arrive at the party.”  
We pause our conversation as we dunk under the surface to rinse ourselves off. The fragrant water refreshes me once more unlike anything else in the realm. Feeling the dirt from weeks of work fall away allows for my skin to be left sleek and shining. Still holding myself down, I run my hands through my hair a total of twenty five times. After I’m sure there is neither soap or grime left on me, I stand, and breathe in the steamy air. Frida’s already above and scrubbing herself for the second time.  
All of a sudden cheers erupt throughout the bathing room, causing us to laugh, lift up our arms and yell our hearts out.  
From deep within the baths a woman cries out, “All hail Prince Thor and Prince Loki!”  
We hollar even louder.  
Even though my heart is loyal to one side of the crown, part of me can’t help but feel excited at the anticipation of receiving a new king.  
“I am absolutely fed up with waiting,” I say resolutely, “Get up!” I demand of my friend. “We must dress and make our way to the Grand Hall!”  
Standing in unison, we exit the tub and wrap ourselves in huge, white towels to dry off. Once our bodies are dry, we throw our hair up into the towel and pull on our respective gowns. Through a steamy mirror I admire myself in this fine dress. There are many layers, and the bust is cut extremely shallow. Luckily I have the endowments to match. I feel unable to control my emotions seeing it on myself for the first time. Examining myself, it’s impossible not to notice just how low cut this dress is, as my nippels are barely conceiled. I sway around, and the dress flows elegantly with me. Tears cloud my vision as I turn to my darling friend.  
“My word!” Frida says after straightening up from adjusting her dress, “Diays, look at you! You are absolutely gorgeous!” she pours out, banishing initial thoughts of jealousy.  
“Oh, thank you, my lovely, so are you!” I gush and release my hair from its towel tower.  
“No, though, this dress.. Seriously, I can’t believe it. I mean- If Prince Loki were to see you…” she breaks off and winks at me.  
I playfully whack her shoulder with a brush before dragging it through my knotted hair, “Frida!”  
She cackles.  
My mind believes she has a good point, though.  
Which gives me an idea.  
Finishing brushing my hair, a large sigh heaves my shoulders up and down. “You know, what? I’ll, uhm- Meet you and Mother up in the… Grand Hall,” I say, being exaggeratedly nonchalant.  
Frida winks at me, “Well, okay, see you up there, should be near the front.”  
“Okay, see you,” I smile, grasping Frida’s hand tightly for a quick moment, then turn around and start running.  
Shortly I come upon the entrance to the servants’ secret passageways and follow it until I find the two princes in a room opposite the Grand Hall. I enter and make my presence known by coming into their sight. Doing so, I hear a slight gasp from Loki, and Thor smiles, delighted.  
“Hello, Diays,” Thor says happily, side eying his brother and nudging him.  
“What are you doing up here? Weren’t you dismissed yet?” Loki questions, pushing his brother away and stepping closer to me.  
“Indeed, I was, Your Highness, but my loyalty to you was not. Do you require anything before the ceremony begins?  
Loki smiles warmly at me, eyes twinkling. “I do appreciate it, my dear, but all I wish is for you to relax and enjoy the festivities.”  
I can’t resist grinning in return, “As you wish, My Liege,” I say, and bow my head.  
“Thank you, Diays. You’re a famed sorceress in this realm, aren’t you?”  
This takes me a bit off-guard, so I restrain myself from squeaking out a response and shake my head, saying, “I beg your pardon, Your Grace, but I would more call it infamous than famous. Whoever the Prowler is, isn’t me.”  
To this, Loki smirks deviously. “You can come to me after the ceremony for a lesson in magic, if you like,” he offers casually.  
For a moment I can only stand and blink at him with an ecstatic expression until Thor snaps his fingers to help me back to reality.  
Partly embarrassed, I stutter out, “As you wish” again, though perhaps slower than the first time.  
He bows his head forward, signifying to take my leave. I curtsy and do so, only to linger a moment behind the passageway door.  
“Loki, she looks stunning,” I hear Thor say lowly to his brother, and stay just long enough to hear him agree in response.


End file.
